Tonight

I breathe sorrow tonight
For that I am sure.
It’s not that I’m wrong
Or right,
It’s not that I’m corrupted
Or pure.
It’s that melancholy has struck
And each and every thought
Contains negative luck
Or is not really sought
For they tell me of things
For which I am unprepared
And my heart, which usually sings,
Falls, encumbered
By heavy concerns,
Not of my making.

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One thought on “Tonight

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